


i think i've seen this film before (and i didn't like the ending)

by happilylarry



Category: One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Human Louis, M/M, Reincarnation, Vampire Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:00:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happilylarry/pseuds/happilylarry
Summary: This is historically inaccurate
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is historically inaccurate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is embarrassingly historically inaccurate. please don't comment about it because even though i did some research I clearly didn't do enough.

_england, 17th century_

Harry stood in the dark, drafty corridor and peered around the corner. The shadows from the flames of the torches lighting the hall licked the walls, but gave no indication that there were any visitors. He sighed impatiently and hid himself once more. He had a few brief moments away from the stables before his absence would be missed, and if he was caught lurking in the shadows of the palace, he would surely pay a price. 

He was just about to leave when he heard a lock shift, echoing through the hall, and a door creaking open. He held his breath and trained his ears. He heard the blood pumping through one single body, and soon, the sweet scent of blood filled his nose. 

Ah, it was his lover. Finally. 

"You make me wait, little dove." He whispered when his lover was in his arms. 

"You would wait forever for me," Blue eyes finally met his. His long eyelashes were only enhanced by the dim torch light. "Do not deny it." 

Harry clicked his tongue and nuzzled his nose against the warm throat in front of him. "You prey on my weakness, Prince Louis." He inhaled deeply, gums throbbing. 

" _I_ am your weakness, and you prey on me." Louis tilted his head back and let Harry's teeth graze down his neck. "You wish to bite me?" 

Harry nodded. "I do." 

"You may. Just leave no marks." Louis breathed. He clutched at Harry's sides, fingers gripping the fabric of his tunic. "I am to sit in on the privy council later. Tis nothing but a waste of my time." 

Harry hummed, vibrating against Louis' soft, warm throat. "And what else would you do with your time?" 

He knew what Louis' answer would be, and the little hand that snaked down to the front of his trousers confirmed it. He couldn't help but let out a contented sigh when Louis' warm fingers danced down the length of his shaft. 

"I can think of one hundred things to do with my time." Louis answered. "And all one hundred things involve you. Would you indulge me?" 

"You prey on my weakness," Harry repeated, licking the spot where he could feel Louis' pulse throbbing. "I will indulge you over, and over, and over again. This you know." 

Louis used his free hand to wind into Harry's long curls. "Christ's sake, Harry, bite me already." He whimpered. 

"Language." Harry tutted. "Use your manners, Prince Louis." 

"I am not a prince." Louis managed to say, attempting to tug Harry closer. They had limited time. They were meeting in the corridor by the kitchen, which would soon become busy with preparations for tomorrows festivities. He knew he would face backlash if they were found, but Harry's fate would be much worse.

Harry tilted Louis' head to the side and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the curve of his neck. "You are the rightful prince. You are _my_ prince." 

"I am a bastard of the King of England." Louis mumbled, words becoming breathy and weak. Harry always knew how to turn him on with just a few select touches. "Hidden away and boasted as a visiting cousin from France. Welcomed at court by everyone but _father_ and the Queen." 

"I will not stand here and listen to this." Harry growled against his throat. "You wish for me to become angry, my love, and at your command I will gladly rip the head off of the King and Queen." 

"Sh," Louis hushed loudly. "You must not say such things, Harry. Someone could hear and it would be your head." 

Harry acquiesced and lowered his head once more. "As you wish. Relax, my love. I cannot bite you with your pulse fluttering so." 

Louis took several deep breaths, relaxing in Harry's arms. He felt safe there, untouchable, protected from everything he endures from the royal family. He wished he could stay there forever, wrapped up in the strong arms of his lover. 

He broke away with a sad sigh. "I must go. I do not want my absence to be noted. That will surely cause panic." He said the last part with a bit of sarcasm, as his presence was hardly noticed, let alone missed. The King acted as if speaking to him was just the same as sucking on a lemon, and the Queen acted as if he didn't even exist. The little ones weren't much better, having been groomed by the Queen from a young age to sneer at him whenever he was around. 

Harry's arms squeezed him tighter. "I will come to you tonight. We shall have the entire night." 

Louis looked up at him. "You give me your word?" It was silly to ask. Harry always kept his word. 

Harry nodded. "I do." 

-

Harry pushed his way through the crowded marketplace and scrunched his nose. The smell of mud and manure and livestock permeated the air around him. The sounds of townspeople haggling and children shouting, running through the crowd, chickens flapping and goats crying made his head ache, but he was on a mission. 

He stopped in front of a wagon, watching as the filthy man behind it leered at a woman counting her currency. She purchased a few loaves of hard, flat bread and scurried off. Harry stepped up. 

"'can I do for ye?" The man asked, leaning his elbows on the rickety wooden table in front of him. He ran his tongue over his teeth, looked around, and leaned forward. "You know the deal." 

"Obviously." Harry whispered sharply. He narrowed his eyes. "One loaf of bread." 

The man presented him with a hard, flat loaf, and in exchange, was handed a bag of coins. He weighed them in his hand before stuffing it in his tunic. He leaned over once more, looking around. 

"There has been talk of an uprising. People want King Henry off the throne. They want the Tudors gone, no matter what it takes." He whispered to Harry. "There was a meeting last night, where the King's guards won't find them. They know something that King Henry wants to hide. They know a secret and they are going to use that to get him off the throne." 

Harry swallowed hard. Surely Louis wasn't the secret they knew. No one but the King, Queen, and Louis himself knew. The queen would have anyone's head if she even thought people knew that Louis was a bastard. 

"What is the secret they know?" He asked. 

The man shrugged and pulled back. "Secret, mate. No one knows. But it is big. It will cause an uproar. People will die." 

"I will come back." Harry promised. He needed to know more. He needed to know what was happening, when it was happening. He wasn't sure how well he could trust the absolute urchin of a man he sought information from, but he was the only person willing to talk to Harry, and for a handful of coins, it was a chance worth taking. 

He stepped away and turned, handing the loaf of bread to a group of children sitting by a pen of goats. He smiled as they tore into it, but his heart beat a sad tune. How badly the people have been treated under the Tudor reign. The man was right; people were suffering and they were finally tired of it. He couldn't blame them, glancing through the filth and rubbish around him. People were miserable and poor. Destitute. 

He had to get Louis away, and quick. He made a vow silently. He would not take his eyes off of Louis for a single moment. He was going to protect Louis at all costs. 

-

"And why will this come in handy for a stable boy?" Louis jested, leaning against the wooden fence posts near the palace garden. He had snuck off to the stables to see Harry, and a walk ended up with him watching Harry spar with another hand. "And _when_?" 

Harry didn't take his eyes off of his opponent, or the steel blades clashing together furiously. "I never said it would," Harry answered, voice surprisingly level. He kept one arm behind his back, and Louis watched in amazement at their delicate footwork, feet seemingly dancing across the grass. 

"You alluded that this skill would benefit you greatly, Mister Styles." Louis gave a great big grin, which was awfully distracting. Harry fumbled and cursed under his breath. 

"You must be more agile, Styles." Ed laughed. He was a good opponent, never taking the sparring too seriously. 

"Master Tomlinson, perhaps you would be better suited to take a walk around the gardens instead of distracting me?" Harry suggested lightly, almost jokingly. 

Louis sighed and rested his head on his crossed arms. He didn't bother to answer, too busy focused on watching Harry. How agile and beautiful he looked, his lithe, strong body not hidden by the simple trousers and billowy white blouse he was wearing. His curls had fallen from the tie and were getting tangled by the wind. He would thoroughly enjoy combing his fingers through the curls later. 

The swordfight ended a few moments later, with Ed's sword struck out of his hands and Harry's pressed against his chest. 

"Christ, Styles," Ed nudged the blade away. "Be careful, bloody hell. One day I might think you were actually trying to kill me." 

Harry laughed and tucked his sword away. "I would never." He promised. "Otherwise I would have to tend the horses myself, and that is a thankless task." He walked over to Louis, glancing around before nudging the prince with his arm. 

Louis let his fingers walk down Harry's chest briefly. "I thank you for it, Master Styles." He was playing coy, one of his favorite games to play with Harry. 

"I can get used to you calling me master." Harry risked another touch, this time gently squeezing Louis' arm three times. _I love you_. 

Louis preened. "Perhaps tonight you will indulge me, and perhaps I might indulge you." 

Harry nodded. "I will visit you tonight. Have dinner in your room. I must watch you eat." He hadn't told Louis about his paranoia, and that he was really watching Louis eat to make sure the food wasn't poisoned. Instead, Louis thought it was romantic that they ate together, in front of the fire after a bath. He would do anything to keep that thought inside of Louis' head. 

"I will." Louis was agreeable. And so in love. "I cannot wait." 

-

Louis' chambers were nowhere near where the other members of the family slept, so Harry was not worried about being caught. The only things scurrying about in Louis' hall were mice, seeking bits of crumbs. However, he was still discreet, unwilling to take any chances. He slipped down the dark and drafty corridor and inside Louis' chamber. 

It was warm and cozy, with the fire roaring and a tray of food, covered by a cloth. Louis was in the bath. He could see the steam wafting from the open privy door. He could hear Louis splashing about, unable to sit still unless he was there. 

"My love," He called, pulling the cloth back to steal a nibble of cheese and tear off the end of a loaf of bread. 

"Harry," Louis called back, voice so enchanting and lovely. "Come to me." 

"Of course." Harry moved like he was tethered to Louis, and perhaps he was. The privy was steaming and the fire was lit. The room was so warm he couldn't help but shiver once. 

"You are still dressed." Louis observed, resting his arms on the sides of the tub. He rested his cheek on his arm and watched. "Come in while the bath is hot." 

Harry nodded and shoved the rest of the food in his mouth, quickly tugging his blouse over his head. His trousers were next, dropping to the floor once the tie was pulled loose. 

"You didn't eat today, did you." Louis sighed. "You know how I worry about you." 

Harry stepped in the bath behind Louis, the hot water not affecting him in the least bit. However, he was concerned for Louis' soft, delicate skin being turned blazing red by the heat. 

"And I, you." Harry replied. He spread his legs and Louis nestled between them, sighing contentedly. "And I had a spot of porridge this morning. Though, my love, you seem to forget that I do not need to eat human food. I can sustain on your blood alone." 

Louis turned his head to look pointedly at Harry. "At dawn. Which, if you'd look out, the stars are visible." He sighed heavily once more and moved further into Harry. "And if you need not eat human food, then why do you do it?" 

"The only star I see is you, my prince. And it is a nasty little habit I picked up, trying to blend in with the human race. No one knows of my kind." Harry answered. He was being cheeky, and he knew it would pay off. However, the sigh he got in return made his shoulders slump in defeat. "You are absolutely right. From now on, I shall mind my grumbling stomach." 

"Good. You would do well to listen to me." Louis pointed out. 

Harry rested his chin on Louis' warm, damp shoulder. "I would." He agreed. "Is there anything in particular you would like to tell me right now? Anything you would like me to do?" He let a hand wander around Louis' waist and rest on his inner thigh. He heard Louis' breath hitch and his heart stutter. 

Louis shifted again and laid fully back, stretching his legs out. "Yes. I would like you to lay here with me until the water runs cold, and then I would like for you to lay in front of the fire with me and eat. I cannot get enough of our time together." 

Harry removed his hand and rested it higher up on Louis' tummy. "I would be honored, my love." 

They laid together in the warm bath, flower petals and little bits of different herbs surrounded them. Harry was skeptical of their so-called healing abilities, but Louis believed, and he had to admit, the bath felt nice. His bones were settling and he could feel the day melting away. Their skin wrinkled and when the water turned tepid, Harry stepped out, helping Louis out and wrapping him up. 

They sat unclothed in front of the roaring fire on piles of warm blankets, soaking up more warmth. Harry watched Louis eat, even feeding him, snarling gently when Louis would suck Harry's fingers into his mouth with hooded eyes. When Louis was full and content, it was his turn. He laid Louis on his side and spooned him from behind. When they were comfortable, he pressed a kiss to the juncture of Louis' neck before sinking his teeth in. 

He drank only what he needed before pulling away. He licked over the two puncture wounds and watched them disappear. Feeding always made his body thrum, and it made Louis' body exhausted. 

"How do you feel?" Louis asked, eyes closed, fighting sleep. 

Harry nosed behind Louis' neck and pulled the blankets over their bodies. He was neither hot nor cold, but he could see the chill on Louis' skin. "How are _you_?" He returned. 

"I am fine." Louis smiled. "You take care of me. Thank you." 

"You need not apologize, my love." Harry said. "It is my duty to protect you. I will be here always." 

Louis threaded their fingers together and held both hands to his chest. "I will hold you to that promise. You will stay the night?" 

"As if I would ever leave." 

-

Word of an uprising against the King spread like wildfire. Everyone at the palace was on high alert, and even Harry was nervous. The riding lessons for the King's two youngest boys were cancelled and he was under strict orders to tend the horses and stable and nothing more. Only the ones who absolutely needed to be at the palace were there. He heard hushed whispers across the courtyards, yearning to go and see Louis, whom he hadn't seen in days. He'd gotten letters from the boy, hurried writings with the ink smudged, from a servant girl he'd paid off to keep her mouth shut. But letters were nothing; anyone could write letters. He needed to see Louis in the flesh, assess his body and make sure he was alive and breathing. 

His informant in the town square offered no more help. He sensed that the man was too scared to speak due to the threats from the King. There had already been three executions, all men who dared speak of such an uprising. Anyone who was thought to know anything was immediately executed. No trial. 

He glanced over at Ed, who was brushing the Prince's chestnut horse and humming to himself. Ed, ever the optimist, had a permanent furrow on his brow lately. He could sense Ed's apprehension. 

"Mate, I'm going to finish this later." Ed stopped abruptly and sighed. "Forgive me, but I cannot stand here and brush a fucking horse when there is about to be bloodshed." 

Harry looked around. They were usually the only two in the stables, but the King had been known to take walks and he didn't want to run the risk of Ed being heard and punished. "They will take your head clean off for saying that." He warned. 

Ed shrugged and sat down on a haybale. He kicked his feet off and leaned against the wall behind him. He reached around on the floor and produced a basket full of food. "I am sick of walking on eggshells around here. I cannot bear the hushed whispers and the sideways glances. Anyone could turn on anyone else in a heartbeat. And there is talk in the town, and it sounds serious. Surely you have heard it?" 

He held out a piece of bread to Harry and Harry accepted it cautiously. It didn't smell like poison, but maybe that was just his paranoia. Ed was oblivious and dug right in, stuffing his face. 

"Thank god for the kitchen staff." He praised around a mouthful. He used his free hand to pat the space next to him. "Sit. You have been on your feet all morning."

Harry declined. "Thank you but I am fine." 

"I did not...I did not upset you with my words, did I?" Ed asked. 

Harry shook his head. "Of course not. You spoke only the truth." 

Ed raised an eyebrow and began tearing apart a turkey leg. "So you have heard the whispers too? You believe them to be true?" 

Harry grimaced. "I do believe that something dangerous is about to happen. I believe that someone very important to me will be a pawn." 

Ed studied him for a long moment. So long, in fact, that Harry feared Ed would suggest that it was Louis he was afraid for. Instead, Ed just nodded sadly and continued to chew on the turkey leg. "If you believe such, it is your duty to make sure whoever it is you are afraid for is not harmed. It is your duty to protect them. In all of this madness, I fear the King and Queen will stop at nothing to make sure they are the ones who come out alive." 

Ed was right. Harry just couldn't stay here and be afraid. He had to protect Louis. It was his duty. 

"You are right, my friend." He finally sat beside Ed and raised the piece of bread in a silent thank you. "I will heed your advice." 

-

Two days later, Harry finally set eyes on Louis. Actually, it was Louis who sought him out, rushing into the stables one cold and rainy night. Louis was absolutely soaked to the bone, shivering and sobbing. Ed nodded to Harry and stepped out, rushing over to tend the other animals. 

"My darling," Harry was quick to pull a blanket over Louis' shoulders and sit him down. "Why have you come out here in this mess? You are shivering." 

Louis clutched onto Harry's clothes and wept into his chest. "Oh, Harry!" He cried. "It is terrible. Harry, they are sending me away!" 

Harry froze. "What do you mean, my love?" He didn't expect an answer right away, nor did he get one. Instead, he held Louis tighter, rocking back and forth for several minutes. Only when Louis pulled away and wiped at his eyes did he ask again. 

"They are sending me to France." Louis whispered. He looked devastated. "My father - the King, he wanted to speak with me this morning. She was there, and he was not going to do it until she insisted. I have no one there. I will be alone. I will have to leave you." 

Harry searched his sad face. Tears were still falling steadily and his wet hair was sticking to his forehead. He looked a miserable mess, and Harry's cold, dead heart felt warmth it hadn't felt in years. He wished he could take Louis' sadness away. Louis must have been in a foul mood all day. Maybe the executions that morning had something to do with it. Or, the words spoken, directed at Louis. 

The King and Queen had three men executed that morning. Men who not only knew of the uprising, but had coordinated it. One had gone as far as to claim himself as the brother of the Queen, believed to have been killed years and years ago as a child. He was back, and prepared to take his rightful place on the throne. 

He had looked Louis directly in the eye, chin resting on the chopping block, and warned the Queen that their house would suffer for their sins. It didn't settle right with Harry, who had been watching from the shadows with Ed. He knew he had to keep a very close eye on Louis from then on, knowing the King and Queen would do nothing. 

Apparently, he was wrong. 

"You will not." Harry shook his head. He lifted Louis' chin with his finger and thumb. "My sweet love. I will be coming with you. We shall never part." 

Hope swam in Louis' blue eyes. "You will abandon everything for me?" 

"Of course I will." Harry promised. He pressed his lips to Louis' cold ones. When Louis had ceased his shivering, Harry pulled away. "I cannot live without you." 

Louis smiled. "Harry...what if I suggested that you did not have to?" 

"What do you mean?" 

Louis pulled away and pulled the blanket tighter over his shoulders. "Harry, we can be together forever. We will never have to part, never have to worry about disease or illness or old age. We can - " 

Harry pulled his hands out of Louis' and stood. He didn't have to look to know that his actions had made Louis' face fall. "No." 

"No?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "No. I will not turn you into a monster." 

He heard Louis bluster behind him before there was a hand on his elbow, turning him around. "Is that what you think you are? A monster?" 

Harry didn't answer him. Instead, he stared down at the one he loved and shook his head again. "Do not ask me again." The question itself did not bother him. It was the fact that he had to refuse Louis such a thing. It made him ache down in his gut. He wanted to give Louis anything in the world. He wanted to be with him forever, but he just couldn't do something so permanent and devastating. If Louis regretted it later, he would never forgive himself. 

Louis' face fell, as did more tears. He'd had a hard enough day, an emotional one at that, and could not bear the rejection from Harry. 

"You do not want forever with me." He deduced, stepping back. "You are a coward." 

"You will not speak to me like that." Harry's nostrils flared. "I refuse to be the one to end your life." 

"But you will not!" Louis pleaded. "You will taking only a heartbeat. I will return to you and stay by your side for the rest of time." 

"There is more to it than that." Harry kicked at the ground. He hoped Ed was far enough away not to hear. It would be hard explaining it. "Much more than you will ever understand." 

"Then explain it to me! You are so secret. How am I supposed to love all of you if you do not show me the parts that you hate?" Louis asked. 

"I shall not. I have my reasons and you shall respect them." Harry said with finality. "If you do not respect my wishes, then you do not respect me." 

Louis stepped back. "How dare you say that to me? Am I not your confidant? Or am I just the warm body you use for pleasure? Am I just simply a warm hole to you?" 

"Do _not_ speak of yourself that way." Harry said sharply. "I will not have it. You are the reason I am still here. You are the reason I wake every morning and come to this stable every godforsaken day." 

"Well, luckily for you, Mr. Styles, you will not have to worry about that any longer." Louis sucked in a breath. "I leave for France tomorrow morning. Perhaps then you can find a different reason to wake." 

"Do not," Harry whispered. "Do not speak as if this was our final meeting. We will go to France together and leave all of this behind." 

"No." Louis shook his head. "It is now or never. Give me eternity with you or we shall never have it." 

"Louis..." Harry wanted to reach out and hold onto Louis. Instead, he stood there, hands by his side, and watched as Louis turned and began to leave, weeping into his elbow. He had to turn himself away, doubling over. His heart was breaking in his chest. He could not give Louis the one thing that they both wanted. 

Before Louis was completely out of the stable, he heard, "I will love you for the rest of my life". He collapsed onto a cold, wet haybale and put his head in his hands. Before long, the rain had washed away the scent of Louis, washed away any evidence that he was even there. 

Harry wanted to believe that things would be better tomorrow. All Louis ever needed was a hot bath and a good night's sleep for him to feel better. They'd had fights like this in the past, but none ever felt so final. 

He sat up and wiped his face. He would simply have to be waiting for Louis tomorrow, maybe sitting in the carriage to surprise him. He knew in his heart that Louis would be happy to see him, the night they'd just had forgotten completely. 

Maybe then he would have a better explanation for Louis. 

-

Harry stared at the doorway in front of him. The usual dark, empty hallway in front of Louis' chamber was full of activity. The King and Queen were speaking to a priest, who was clutching his rosary and a Bible. There were servants flitting around, most with buckets of water. He knew what they were for. 

He pushed the door open and walked over to the bed, falling to his knees. The body on the bed was laying so still. It was unnatural. He expected the eyes to open and the mouth to curve into a smile like it deserved to. 

He grabbed the cold, stiff hand in his and pressed several kisses to the back. He didn't care if anyone walked in to see. A closed door meant nothing to the royal family. 

"Wake up, my love." He whispered, resting his cheek on the back of the hand. "Please. We still have to go to France. I will do whatever you want me to do. Wake up. Just wake up."

No matter how many times he begged, it was futile. Louis was dead. There had been a poison in his tea. He'd heard the physician inform the King and Queen quietly. He drank it late last night, right before bed. It killed him instantly. It was a discreet poison, meant to cause no physical affects to the body, but it ravages the body within seconds. 

Louis died last night thinking that Harry didn't love him. 

Harry would carry that with him until the next time they met. In another life, he would try to explain himself. He would grovel and fall to Louis' feet and turn him the second he saw Louis again. They would be together forever. 

He wished tears would fall, but he knew that Louis' death would happen. He couldn't predict when, or how, or even why. Louis never lived past his twenty-first birthday. The first few times it had confused him, but then he caught on. For some reason, the fates took Louis before he could age anymore. 

Still, he missed Louis so much. Their time had been cut short once again by the cruel blade of fate. He hated it. He felt hopeless and helpless. He missed Louis so much already. He had no idea when he would see Louis next. His stomach curled and his throat tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

He wasn't ready to live the next few decades without Louis. He wanted to crawl into his tomb and wait for someone to come and wake him up when they'd found Louis. He didn't want to walk the earth aimlessly. 

Minutes, or maybe hours passed, before he stood once more. He let Louis' hand go from him, placing it gently on the bed. He rubbed his knuckles across Louis' soft, cold cheek and sighed. He leaned down and kissed Louis' forehead, brushing the hair away. 

"Until we meet again, my love."

He left the room just as discreetly as he entered, making his way swiftly down the hall. He only stopped when he heard the Queen speaking quietly and viciously to the priest. 

"The bells will not ring." She whispered. "The people will not know of this loss. There is no reason to show weakness when there are still talks of an uprising." 

The priest agreed, helpless to do otherwise, and Harry clenched his fists. He had to leave before he stalked in there and ripped her throat out. He bid farewell to Ed, who he hoped he would see again, and something told him he would, and began to walk. 

He stopped at the inn, speaking lowly in one single man's ear. By the time he was leaving, the gossip had begun, and by sundown, everyone would know of Prince Louis, the King's illegitimate son. He would give Louis a name. They would not erase him from history. 

He made one more stop at the belfry, and by the time he was leaving town, the bells were ringing, heavy and solemn. 

"My love," He looked up at the sky. "I will love you for the rest of my life." 


	2. Chapter 2

_paris, 18th century_

Harry stood and surveyed the hustle and bustle going on around him. His townhome was preparing for a gathering. He'd only anticipated a small crowd, but by the number of townspeople who had stopped him on the street, he was now expecting quite a turn out. However, he wasn't surprised. A new season was beginning, and of course, the most eligible lords and ladies were looking for any excuse to gather and network. 

The door opened and he glanced down at it. It was Ed, his most trusted confidant. He hadn't seen Ed in over two years. 

"You have news?" He asked when Ed sidled up to him. His friend looked worse for wear; skin sallow and eyes tired, hair messy and body slow. 

Ed grimaced. "Only that there is no news." 

Harry sighed. He had been searching for Louis for almost ninety years. It always happened the same way: when Louis died, he would come back again, in a different time and a different place. Once, he'd stumbled upon Louis as a bright eyed seventeen year old, mucking about in the streets with a group of children. It had only been twenty-two years since he'd last lost Louis for the third time. 

That meeting was the shortest he'd ever had with Louis. Two months later, Louis, his entire family, and much of Europe had died from the Black Plague. He found solace in the fact that he didn't have time to fall in love with Louis for a fourth time. Not that it mattered; he loved Louis forever. His heart always ached for the boy. 

"We must find him." Harry looked at Ed. "I need him. I have gone the longest without him. I fear that I may never see him again." 

"You will." Ed promised. "Just because he wasn't where I searched does not mean he is not _anywhere_. Perhaps I just missed him." 

"I hope that is the case." Harry chewed on his bottom lip. It was a bad habit he picked up about twenty years ago. Only when he was so nervous did he do it. And the thought of never seeing Louis again not only made him nervous, it made him physically ill. 

Ed threw his arms out at the floor below them. "We are to have a party. Forgive me, but I must ask that we celebrate tonight. It was your idea to host this, and you must not let anyone think you are loathe to be here." 

Harry nodded. "You are right. As always, my friend." 

Ed grinned. "Have you not learned anything yet?" 

"Apparently not." Before he'd left after Louis' last death, he stopped to bid Ed goodbye. Only, Ed had surprised him in deciding that he should accompany Harry on his travels. Not long after that, Harry sired Ed, and sent Ed to travel the world over, searching for Louis in every corner of the earth. He would do it himself, _had_ been doing it himself, but he quit. It took its toll on him, and he spent a whole year sleeping, completely comatose. He had told Ed only to wake him if he'd found Louis, and he'd woken him up with bad news, he'd found Louis. Only his Louis was nothing but a grave marker, died at birth. 

After that, he'd sent Ed out alone and slept for two more years. 

Alone, in the dark cell he'd had, his body desecrated, his muscles atrophied, and he was just a shell. When Ed had woken him for the last time, with the scent of warm animal blood, he'd almost taken his friend's head off. He was angry. He was dreaming of Louis. 

Ed had sat him down, explained the current events, and ended his speech by telling Harry that he wasn't being a very good sire. If Harry ever wanted to find Louis, he had to get up and just live his life. They were fated to be together, Ed had told him, and they would be together again. 

When Harry came back to reality, Ed was waving to Mrs. Thatcher, busy as ever, making sure the preparations were going smoothly. She was more invested in the party than he was. But he was sure he could fake it. 

He turned to Ed. "Staying for the party?" 

Ed nodded. "Of course. I will be fashionably late, as I am heading up to rest before the festivities. I have done nothing but travel the world 'round." 

"Go, rest. You deserve it. Come and find me when you come back down." 

Harry watched Ed disappear up the marble staircase, to the third floor, and sighed. Ed was a comforting presence, but he knew that his mind would be elsewhere during the party, and probably for many years to come. 

-

The party was in full swing. Harry had never seen so many brightly colored dresses in one room, nor had he seen so many painted up faces. He supposed that it was normal, and expected. It was the first party of the season and many lords and ladies were looking for marriage prospects. 

Ed had yet to come down, sleeping through the dinner and dessert portion. But, with the way things were looking, he would make it just in time for the dancing, which would undoubtedly last for hours. 

It was funny; the crowded room did nothing to ease his feeling of loneliness. The tall ceilings and beautiful chandeliers and the ornate artwork and rugs and statues did nothing but make him feel small, insignificant. He'd felt lonely before. In fact, he realized bittersweetly, that loneliness was the only emotion he felt anymore. 

None of this was worth it when he had no one to share it with. These shallow, vain people of France did nothing but gossip and boast, but he supposed that is how this century worked. He missed the simplicity of centuries before, where people were content with what they had but steadily worked to better themselves and the economy around them. 

He made his way through the crowds, nodding politely at all of the eligible ladies sending him glances. _If only they knew_ , he thought. He entered the dining room, which was mostly empty, save for Lord Arthur Manning, who was still eating. 

"Lord Styles!" Arthur threw a hand up in the air and waved him over. "Lord Styles, I must congratulate you on a spectacular evening. Good food, good wine, and good company. Three of the best things to have when hosting." 

Harry nodded politely. "It truly means a lot, Lord Manning." He graciously thanked. "However, if it is good company you are searching for, I suspect that Lady Welling would provide some." 

He nodded over his shoulder at a group of ladies just outside of the dining room. Lady Welling was beautiful, with smooth porcelain skin and golden brown eyes. She was everything anyone could ever want, and she had not taken her eyes off of Lord Manning all evening. 

However, Lord Manning shook his head and ducked it, picking at the food piled on his plate. Harry looked on in sympathy. Lord Arthur Manning was a short, portly man, rosy cheeked and positively the nicest man Harry had ever met. Unfortunately, though Arthur was very wealthy and had a very large estate, the French were so vain, and Lord Manning was often overlooked. 

"You must not do this to yourself, Lord Manning. I will not stand for it." Harry said. "Lady Welling has been sending you glances all evening. Perhaps you should invite her over. You might find yourself surprised." 

"I thank you for your kind words, Lord Styles, but Lady Welling is making many friends tonight, as she deserves." Arthur lifted his wine goblet to his lips and took a hearty swig. "Though I could provide her with everything she would ever want." 

"Lord Manning, take the risk." Harry urged. He stood. "Since you seem to be stricken with fear, I shall invite Lady Welling over here on your behalf."

He turned, ignoring Arthur's protests, and to his delight, and Arthur's shock, Lady Welling was more than happy to sit down and to an even bigger shock, she began to eat with him. Harry watched as Lord Manning's face lit up. It was clearly a match made in heaven. 

Of course, he would know one when he'd see one. 

He mingled some more, politely excusing himself when the conversation turned to courting, and if he was interested in anyone present. He was interested in one person and one singular person only. And that person was not there, but he soon would be, hopefully, and then his life would be complete again. At least for a time. 

-

Ed sidled up to Harry close to midnight, yawning into his palm. 

"That is not polite." Harry murmured, casting his eyes across the guests in attendance. The party showed no sign of waning, unfortunately, and he was ready to call it a night, take a hot bath, and crawl into bed. 

"Forgive me." Ed snarked. "Must these people party until dawn? Have they no sense of time?" 

Harry shook his head. "Not when there is a chance to dance. I was foolish enough to forget that it is the beginning of the season. But be prepared, my friend, because there are many more to come." 

Ed tossed his head back and groaned. Just as he was about to answer, there was a commotion from the kitchen. The guests could not hear it because of the music, but Ed and Harry heard it, and it was quite the ruckus. 

As they headed towards the kitchen, Ed glanced at Harry. "I would thank you for siring me, but this sounds like trouble and you know I _hate_ conflict." 

Harry huffed a laugh and pushed the kitchen doors open. Mrs. Thatcher was clutching a loaf of bread to her chest whilst Josiah, one of Harry's footman, was sprawled atop another man, who was shouting and kicking his feet. 

"What is going on?" He raised his voice to be heard over the offending man's yelling. 

Mrs. Thatcher ran over to him and pointed. "I caught this vagrant trying to steal food! In my kitchens! Josiah heard me yells and came running, thank God above." 

"Josiah, let him up." Harry ordered. He wanted to nip this issue in the bud, get back to the party just long enough to bid everyone goodbye, and go to sleep. 

Josiah did as he was told, but kept a firm hold on the man's wrists, wriggling him around to face Harry. 

Ed gasped. "Harry - " 

Harry held a hand up. Standing in front of him was his Louis. Filthy, exhausted, and _thin_ Louis. Covered in tattered clothes and no shoes, but he was standing there, looking mutinous and squirming in Josiah's hold. 

"Is this anyway to treat your _guests_?" Louis fumed, kicking his little feet back, making contact with Josiah's shins. 

"Unhand him at once." Harry ordered. He was so surprised that Josiah heard him. He didn't think he could speak above a whisper, he was so shocked. He knew Ed was too. The man was standing beside him, stock-still and open-mouthed. 

Louis jerked himself away from Josiah and gave the footman a venomous stare. Then, he turned to Harry and Ed and crossed his arms. 

"Are you going to stand their with your gobs open?" He snarked. Then he let his arms fall to his sides. "Forget it. I can find provisions somewhere else. Sorry I ruined your little gathering." 

He turned on his heel and made to march out of the door, but Harry finally found his voice again. He took an involuntary step forward, as if pulled by an invisible string. 

"Wait." He held a hand out. "Do not leave. I mean, you are already here. Please, allow me to present myself as a gracious host. I do not wish to have you think I have no manners." 

Ed glanced to Harry. He could practically feel the hurt and heartbreak and longing coming from him. 

Louis twisted his mouth up and narrowed his eyes. "Is this a trick? Are you going to wait until the guests are gone and then have me hauled away to jail? Or just do it in front of them, provide not only dinner but a show?" 

Harry swallowed hard. He let his eyes rake over Louis' thin frame. God, he was breathtaking, even in tattered clothes and dirt smudged on his cheeks. "Are you saying," He cleared his throat and spoke again, this time his voice more steady and sure. "You have been to jail before?" 

Louis scratched at the back of his neck and looked at Mrs. Thatcher. She had lowered the loaf of bread and was looking at him with a cocked head. She looked nice. She'd be even nicer if she had not jerked the bread out of his hands before he could make a run for it. 

"It has become apparent that people do not care for those of lesser means sleeping in their stables." Louis answered. His voice was bitter. "And the constables do not like it when you fight back." 

Harry let out a shaky exhale. "God, what did they do to you?" He asked under his breath. What kind of life had Louis been living? And how had he been so close and how had Ed not noticed? 

Louis frowned at him and tilted his head. "You are peculiar." He stated, eyeing Harry's bright pink ensemble. 

Harry cocked a brow. _If only you knew_. Instead, he threw a hand out to the staircase behind him. It lead to the upstairs. "If you accept my offer, I will show you to a room. You can bathe in hot water and wear fresh clothing. Mrs. Thatcher will make you a tray of food and you can eat upstairs as well."

Ed turned to Harry. "If you are certain, my Lord, shall I go and send the guests home?" 

Harry nodded. "Josiah will help you. Please give them my sincerest apologies for leaving. But I have a more pressing matter to attend to." He turned to Louis once more, holding his hand out. "This way." 

Louis cast a hesitant look around, then nodded. He followed the man in front of him up a cold, winding staircase, wrapping his arms around himself. He marveled at the artwork on the walls and the marble floors. He wondered how someone could get to a place like this. 

Harry stopped in front of a gold door and opened it. He stepped aside and let Louis walk in, letting his eyes linger on the man he'd longed to see for decades. Meanwhile, Louis had eyes only for the grand room in front of him. He'd never even dreamed of a room like the one he was in. There was a fire already going, and he knew that he was going to spend some time in front of it. The bed looked warm and inviting. It made him tired just looking at it. 

"You can wash up in here." Harry said, opening a side door. "There are many things you can add to the bath if you so wish." He gestured to a row of jars sitting atop the vanity. "The fire in here is going as well, but if it becomes too much, I am sure you know how to put it out." 

Louis nodded. "I want to make it clear," He began nervously. "I am only here because I am in no position to object." 

"Object?" Harry couldn't help but ask. 

"To a hot bath and a meal." Louis answered timidly. His tough facade had melted into a scared, nervous one, and Harry didn't like it one bit. 

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "No one should live like that." He said quietly. "Mrs. Thatcher will be up with your food shortly. You can eat in the bath or out on the bed, or in front of the fire. Whichever you prefer." 

Louis nodded. "Thank you." 

"Do not thank me. It is decency." Harry objected. _I also want to keep you here for as long as possible_. He turned to leave, and then paused at the door. "You can stay as long as you would like. I have plenty of room and food." 

Again, Louis nodded. "I...I will think about it. I am still not sure as to what your intentions are." 

"It is always a good thing to be wary." Harry said. "However, I can assure you that my intentions are good. Now, have a good bath. I will check on you later." 

He left the room, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wood and sighed. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to open the door and grab Louis by the shoulders and tell him everything. But he didn't want to scare him off. So, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and left the room. 

-

Louis sank into the steaming hot water and exhaled. He didn't realize how much he'd missed a hot bath until he could no longer take them. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, resting it on the edge of the tub. As per Harry's suggestion, he'd added several ingredients to the bath to soothe him. Lavender and rose petals, only because he didn't know what anything else was. 

He laid there until he heard Mrs. Thatcher in the bedroom, presumably bringing his tray of food. His stomach growled and he rubbed at it. Now, when his stomach rumbled, he had food to provide it. That never happened. 

He didn't want to get out of the now-tepid water. He wanted to leech as much heat from the bath as possible, as if it would sink into his bones and stay there all winter. But alas, it would not, and he was rather hungry, so he stood and stepped out, wrapping himself in a robe that was warmed from the fireplace. As he slid it on, he looked around in awe. How was this place real? Was he in a dream? 

He was not, he decided, once he sat down on the plush bed and began to eat. Mrs. Thatcher had provided him with an array of warm, delicious food, and he ate until he was full and then he ate some more, as if this was a test, and the food would be jerked away from him and he would be kicked out onto the streets. 

When he was stuffed to the brim, he slid out of the bed and sat down in front of the fireplace. He crawled as closely as he could without getting burned before curling up. His eyelids grew heavy and he grew suspicious. 

Had he been the one with a grand house and a lavish party, he would not have taken so kindly to someone like him interrupting. He would not have opened his home and offered a bath and a hot meal and a warm bed. He simply would have had Josiah take care of it and returned to his guests. 

So why had Harry been so generous? The man was handsome, and obviously wealthy, and this was a party to celebrate the beginning of the season. It was not a party for friends. It was a party to secure a marriage. 

Who was Harry even? Was he in parliament? Or was he some other higher official whose name had weight behind it? Would Louis wake up to constables dragging him out into the cold again? 

He wanted to trust Harry. Even the red haired man next to Harry in the kitchen looked honest. But he just could not. Everyone had a motive, whether good or bad, and it was usually bad and usually at the expense of others. 

Suddenly nauseous, he sat up and drew his knees to his chest. He stared into the fire forlornly. In the end, all he had was himself. And that was enough. 

-

Harry had waited until the morning before checking on Louis. It had been agonizing and he had not slept a wink, but Ed had suggested it. He did not want to scare Louis off. He wanted to keep him here, earn his trust and respect, and let the natural order of their relationship happen. Because it would; they would fall in love and be together. He was just impatient. 

He paced for several moments outside of Louis' door. His mouth began to water involuntarily, as it always did when he first caught a whiff of the warm, sweet blood coursing through Louis' veins. 

He stepped forward and knocked before he could stop himself. When he got no answer, he knocked again and said, "It is Harry. May I come in?" 

No answer. He knocked once more, frowning. Surely Louis was not still asleep. But it would make sense. Finally in a warm bed with clean clothes and a full belly. Louis was bound to sleep better here than anywhere else. 

Curiosity got the best of him and he turned the doorknob. "I am coming in. Speak now if you are not decent." 

It was pointless, because the room was empty. He stood in the doorway, heart already sinking to his knees. He knew without looking around that Louis was no longer here. The bed was made and the mess was cleaned up. The smell of Louis barely lingered. He exhaled shakily. Tears burned at the back of his eyelids. 

"Christ." His lip trembled. How many times could he shed a tear for the same man? He stepped in and let his hand run over the top of the bed. There was a note on the pillow, and he did not want to read it. He wanted to toss it into the ashes and light the fire, but he could not. It was a letter from Louis, and no matter what it said, he would keep it, placing it in a locked chest with the others he'd collected over time. 

_Harry,_

_I thank you for your kindness and hospitality. However, I cannot stay. Please accept my sincerest apologies. It is not you, but my trust is nonexistent. I will not take any chances. I am heading for America. Please forgive me, but I took the remaining food. It was too good to waste._

_Regards,_

_Louis T_

Harry folded the note and tucked it into his breast pocket. He blinked away the tears that swam in his eyes and went to find Ed. He apologized to his friend, but Ed was more than willing to go on yet another search, but this time to bring Louis _back_. 

But Harry knew. He knew it was over before Ed confirmed it with a letter three months later. Louis had stowed away on a ship and contracted typhoid fever, as did the majority aboard. All infected had perished before docking in America. 

His heart was broken for the hundredth time, a feeling that he never got used to. He wanted to curse and scream out at God and fall to his knees and claw his own heart out of his chest. But he couldn't. 

Didn't. 

Because he knew he'd see Louis again, and that small sliver of hope kept him going for centuries more. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of suicide

_america, 1896_

Much like he always did, Harry woke with the sun. He had no body clock anymore, but ever since he'd come to America, things had been different. The culture was so different, the people were hardworking and minded their own business for the most part. However, several wars had marked the years since he'd been there, and he'd had to live through a severe economic depression that had devastated many. Industrial strikes followed, and he'd considered moving back to Europe, but he had vowed to never take another months-long boat journey.

However, his mind had been changed one late afternoon in Savannah. His _life_ had been changed, so he stuck around. In fact, he glanced behind him in bed, smiling when all he saw were tufts of messy brown hair. He shifted and pulled the covers up higher, making his guest whine and paw around. 

"It's time to wake up, love." He said. "I'll make breakfast but you must sit in the kitchen with me." 

"No." 

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't want breakfast? If memory serves me, you neglected to eat last night, as you were otherwise occupied." His tone had a hint of lust and teasing, and he let his hand trail up smooth skin. 

Finally, blue eyes opened and stared up at him. "You're not propositioning me now, are you?" He asked with a huff. "Because I insist on breakfast first." 

Harry chuckled and wrapped his arms around the boy. "Louis, my love. Of course I'll feed you. I'll do anything for you." 

That seemed to stir Louis out of bed, and Harry watched, propped up on his elbows, as Louis covered his soft, tan skin with a pair of trousers and a shirt, presumably Harry's, with the way it draped across his body, three sizes too big. 

He clicked his tongue. "Such a shame," He lamented, climbing out of bed himself. He began to make it, stark naked. He preferred to be in the nude most of the time, and Louis seemed to like it as well, walking up behind him and wrapping two arms around his waist. Harry felt a kiss press to the center of his back. 

"What's a shame?" Louis asked. "That we have to get up and join society?"

"No," Harry answered. "Having to cover your body with clothes. That's the shame. Imagine, if we were both to walk around with no clothes, how much easier penetration could be. I could simply sidle up behind you and press myself into your body, take you anywhere I wanted." 

Louis squeezed Harry tighter. "The filth that escapes your mouth." He breathed hotly against Harry's back. "As if you don't enter my body enough. I have a permanent limp, thanks to you. And we needn't scare your staff. I'd love to be taken over your kitchen table, but Mrs. Miller insists on making biscuits at that table." 

"Mrs. Miller can be relieved of her duties for the day." Harry turned and gathered Louis into his arms. He found himself doing it quite often, always taking the chance to hold Louis. He never knew when the last time would be. 

"However, I am going to be late for work, and you are going to be late, wooing the old men of Savannah into selling you their land for tobacco." Louis darted up to press a kiss to his lips, then escaped from his arms and headed towards the door. "Dress and come join me for breakfast. I'd very much like to sit on your lap whilst we eat." 

Harry watched him go, bemusement apparent on his face. He shook his head and dressed quickly. He never turned down an offer for Louis to sit on his lap, _ever_. 

Downstairs in the kitchen, Mrs. Miller had sat breakfast out but was long gone, presumably somewhere on the plantation, giving instruction to a farmhand or tending the chickens. She'd walked in on Harry and Louis too many times to not have learned to steer clear. However, Harry could trust her to secrecy. 

Louis stood when he entered, only to sit back down on his lap. "I thought I'd have to start without you." 

Harry quirked a brow. "Did you not?" He asked, thumbing away a bit of jam from the corner of Louis' lips. He sucked it from his finger and licked his lips. "You were always impatient." He mused. 

Louis gave him a funny look but said nothing. He was used to Harry referring to him in past tense, but he figured it was just the way he spoke, or a little quirk. He spooned some jam onto a biscuit and turned, offering it to Harry. 

"For you," He smiled, knowing full well Harry would melt like butter. And he did, and for the rest of breakfast, he was under Louis' spell, eating food from his fingers and doing the same for his lover, kissing bacon greased lips and sucking honey from fingers. It should have led to more, _would_ have led to more, had Mrs. Miller not bustled in the door, carrying a basket. 

"Mornin' Master Styles," She greeted, ducking her head. "Master Tomlinson." 

"Mrs. Miller, I've told you, it's Harry." He reminded her. Time and time again, he'd remind his staff to call him by his first name, and time and time again, he was met with hesitance. He knew why, and it frustrated him and made him sick to his core. He knew what would happen if anyone else heard his staff using his first name. Or if anyone else had seen how lively and happy his staff were, safe at his plantation. 

He knew what would happen if anyone found out he wasn't treating them like _slaves_. 

They weren't. They were not his property, free to come and go as they please. He paid them, fed them, spoke to them like humans. They could speak freely around him, though it took some time to build trust with them. He understood the hesitancy, and if they wanted to work and not speak to him, afraid of repercussions, then so be it. He respected that. 

Mrs. Miller sat the basket down and planted her hands on her hips. "Master Styles," She drawled, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. "I ain't gonna tell you again, if you don't call me Annie, then I ain't gonna call you Harry." 

"Forgive me, Annie," He tipped his head and flashed a grin. She waved her hand at him and turned. 

"I just don't know what I'm gonna do with you," She tutted. "If you find your way out back, John and Ben have a problem out there. Seems like your ol' plow ain't workin'. And you know them two will break they're backs to fix it." 

"Well, I don't want that." He said. "Thank you for telling me." He patted Louis' thigh and Louis stood, stretching. 

"Can I come by tonight?" He asked, tucking his fingers into Harry's waistband. "I should get done at work around four or five." 

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, darling, but I'm hosting a dinner for Thomas Whitley tonight. Don't you remember?" 

Louis frowned, sighed, but relented. "Okay. When can I see you again?" 

"Well, sugar," Mrs. Miller interrupted. She was notorious for eavesdropping, but rarely hid the fact that she did so. "You come on by later tonight then. Just so happens I'm making your favorite, sure there'll be plenty of leftovers for you." 

She had a soft spot for Louis, Harry noticed. She was always making his favorites, purely accidental, she'd claim. She just liked having him around. 

Louis grinned at her. "Well, it's settled. If that's alright with you, _Master Styles_." He bit his lip and looked coyly up at Harry. "I'll be by tonight. What time?" 

Harry looked to Mrs. Miller. He allowed her to make the schedule for dinner parties, seeing as how she was the one who cooked and cleaned up afterwards. 

"Oh, 'bout eight o'clock. I plan to shoo your company out with a broom if they stay a minute past," She warned, holding up a finger. "Now, Master Tomlinson, if you don't get a move on, you're gonna be late, and I know Dr. Fredericks is an impatient man." 

"Thank you for breakfast, Annie," Louis blew her a kiss and pressed an actual one to Harry's lips. "I'll see you tonight."

Harry watched him go, unable to take his eyes from the boy. He still couldn't believe that they were together again. When he would wait for Louis, all those years between their meetings, time dragged on. It even felt like it had stilled. But when they were back together, all of that time had seemed to last seconds. 

"Mr. Styles," Annie interrupted his thoughts, wiping her hands on a tea towel. "I really need you to finalize the menu for tonight." 

He nodded. Unfortunately, he couldn't watch Louis forever. He turned, nodding again. "Of course. Anything you need." 

-

Harry hadn't seen Louis in three days. Under normal circumstances, he'd be fine. But their circumstances were anything but normal. So, he panicked. Louis was never at the home he had, an apartment above a diner, nor was he ever at Harry's. Annie had even gotten worried, and was always looking out the windows, hoping to see him coming up the drive. 

Word travelled fast, unfortunately, and the gossip mill worked like the devil in Savannah. He understood why Louis was giving him the cold shoulder. Talks of buying hundreds of acres of fertile land for tobacco had turned into a proposition for his daughter, Shelby Whitley. Her hand in marriage in exchange for miles of land. He didn't say yes right away, but he didn't say no, and that was the part that spread. 

Now, the town thought he was engaged to one of the most influential man in town's daughter, and Louis was nowhere to be found. He had refrained from going to Louis' work, but now he found himself standing outside of the town's only medical practice, where Louis worked as an apprentice in the apothecary, concocting medicines all day for the patients. 

He stepped inside, letting the door close quietly behind him. The room was empty, save for chairs for the patients. There was a room to the side, and he walked through the glass doors. He could hear someone in the back, heard the clinking of jars and hoped it was Louis. 

"Hello?" He called, stopping at the counter. He observed the rows and rows of herbs and liquid medicines on the shelves behind the counter. The right mixture could heal, and the wrong mixture could kill. 

The clinking stopped, and Louis stepped out, making his heart jump. However, the expression on his face was unreadable, but Harry could hear the thumping of his heart and the rushing of his blood through his veins. 

"May I help you?" Louis asked, not making eye contact. Instead, he grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil, ready to write down anything Harry told him. 

"Louis," Harry started. "Look at me." 

"Are you a patient of the doctor?" Louis asked, tapping the pencil against the paper. "I see you have no prescriptions to fill, so I'm assuming you're looking for a different concoction." 

Harry sighed in frustration. "Why do you do this?" He asked. That got Louis to look up, fire behind his eyes. "Why do you believe the rumors?"

Louis opened his mouth, and Harry thought for sure he was going to spew hate, but instead, he asked again, "How may I help you?"

Harry leaned his palms against the counter. He wished there was a bottle of medicine behind Louis that would make the past three days disappear. Or to make Louis not so stubborn. "By listening. Louis, I'm not marrying Shelby Whitley." 

Louis turned his back and grabbed a mortar and pestle. "You may leave now." 

"Dammit, Louis!" He slapped his palm down onto the counter, making Louis jump. "Just listen to me! I offered to buy his land and he offered his daughter in exchange. I didn't say yes, Louis." 

"But you didn't say no." Louis replied. He finally turned, mutinous. "You didn't say no."

"Baby, I have to figure out how to get this land. That's it. I have no desire to marry _anyone_. Shelby Whitley included. And if the fact that you wake up in my bed every morning doesn't tell you something, then I don't know what to tell you." 

Louis licked his lips and swallowed. He sucked in a deep breath and nodded. He smoothed his hand down the front of his white shirt. "You don't want to marry Shelby Whitley. Okay. You don't want to marry anyone." 

"Yes, Louis. Are you finally listening to me?" Harry asked. "You have nothing to worry about. I'm going to get the land and everyone will be happy." 

Louis nodded again and looked down. Harry heard the shaky breath he took. "Everyone will be happy." He agreed quietly. "You'll be happy. Thomas Whitley will be happy. Shelby Whitley will be happy." 

"Yes." Harry nodded. "And things will go on. The rumors will stop just as quickly as they started, I'll have the most fertile tobacco land in Georgia, and everyone will go on with their lives." 

Louis' eyes finally met his. There was something behind the blue he saw, something he couldn't figure out. An emotion he couldn't pinpoint. "Yes, they will. Everyone will go on with their lives." 

Harry reached across the counter and grabbed Louis' free hand. "Will you come over tonight? Annie will make your favorite food. She's been missing you like crazy. Everyone has. I have." 

Louis nodded. "Sure. I'll come over." He finally agreed. He plastered a smile on his face. "Tell Annie I said I've missed her." 

"Great. Okay, perfect. I'll see you tonight." Harry pressed a kiss to the back of Louis' hand and stepped back. "I love you." 

"Love you." Louis echoed back. The words fell from his lips and onto the floor. He watched Harry leave, waving to a patient that had walked in. "I love you too." 

-

When Harry hadn't heard from Louis by nine o'clock that night, he assumed that he just needed more space. He did look rather overwhelmed earlier, and Harry couldn't blame him. Louis was sensitive, and even more so because they both would be strung from a tree if people found out they were laying together. Harry was already sure there was some suspicion at his refusal to marry Shelby Whitley. He was sure to hear slurs in the streets later on. 

Annie had sadly packed up the dinner and put it away, sullenly cleaning the kitchen. He tried to offer her reassurance that Louis would more than likely show up for breakfast, but she was devastated. 

"That boy is special." She muttered, shaking her head and wiping the counter down. 

"He is." Harry agreed. "He'll be here tomorrow." 

-

When Louis didn't show up the next morning, he got worried. Fuck giving him anymore space, Harry was worried. Louis liked to be bratty, but he liked to be bratty with an audience. He liked to confront Harry and yell and be yelled at. He was never one to stay away for days and days. Something was wrong. 

He went to Louis' apartment, tempted to go inside of the diner below to see if Louis was there, but if he wasn't, he didn't want to miss Louis escaping down the stairs while he was distracted. He knocked and knocked with no answer. The door was locked and the curtains drawn. He assumed Louis was gone, so he headed back to the medical practice. 

The doctor hadn't seen him, neither had the man with whom he had his apprenticeship. It was unusual behavior. In the end, he left Louis a note and slid it under his door. It was short and sweet and to the point, _Louis, you're starting to worry me. I understand your confusion and frustration. Please come home and I will explain everything to you. I didn't explain it very well yesterday. I love you._

-

He should have known. He didn't know why it never crossed his mind. It should have been the first thing he thought of. He had a sense about it. He _knew_ , and for some reason, he _didn't_. 

It was laudanum. He'd nicked it from work the day Harry came in, and swallowed it that night. He was in his bed when Harry stopped by, and he couldn't answer because he was dead. 

_Why didn't he_ _know_. 

Louis had left a note for Harry, at the practice. He'd written it as soon as Harry had left, even timestamped it. He couldn't bear to read it. Not when the doctor had handed it to him personally, not when he had taken the task of planning Louis' funeral because he had no family. Not even when Annie sobbed underneath the large weeping willow. 

But he read it later, on a night when the pain of losing Louis for _another_ time was so great it made him furious. He trashed his room, broke his furniture, screamed at the top of his lungs to Louis, _for_ Louis. God, all he wanted was Louis. He didn't understand why he couldn't have him. 

With a heaving chest and sore lungs and blurred eyes, he opened the envelope and read:

_Harry,_

_I am so sorry. I love you. Perhaps more than you love me. Or maybe in a different way. When you came in today, you told me that you had no plans to marry anyone._

_No one at all. Not even me. Maybe I'm being insecure. Maybe I'm too vulnerable at the moment. I don't know myself anymore. I've been struggling for awhile. But when I had you, things were good. But I feel like I don't have you anymore. That's just how I feel. You have me forever, body and soul. But you didn't want it. You didn't want me. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe you never meant to say it. But I can't live in a world where we can't be together. You are in high demand, Harry. And soon, you'll have to make a deal and marry someone like Shelby Whitley. And I don't want to be here to see it. So, I'm sorry. I love you so much. My hands are shaking. I don't want to leave you. But I have to. I'm so sorry. Harry, please forgive me._

_I love you._

_Forever yours, Louis_

When he was done reading, his hands were shaking and the tears were falling steadily down his face. His jaw hurt from how quickly the tears came. He was crouched in front of the fireplace and was tempted to throw the letter into the flames. But he couldn't. For now, this was going to be the last piece of Louis he had. He didn't know when he was going to see Louis again, if ever.

But for now, he had to stand, wipe his nose and cheeks, and crawl into bed, because tomorrow began another lifetime of waiting. 


End file.
